


Baby's Breath

by MilkTeaMiku



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Married Life, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkTeaMiku/pseuds/MilkTeaMiku
Summary: Five times Shiro was woken up by his baby, plus one time he didn't mind.





	1. One

1.

The first time it happened, the baby hadn’t been born. They were a double blue-line on a pregnancy test, a congratulations from their excited doctor, a hastily bought, tiny blue beanie that he and Allura squirreled away to start what would become an impressive collection of baby wear. They’d only known Allura was pregnant for a fortnight when they were first kept up all night by their child.

Back then, Shiro had dreamed a thousand different scenarios about meeting his first baby. Would they be a boy, or a girl? Would they have Allura’s thick silver hair, or his dark brown, almost black locks? Would they have Allura’s crystal blue eyes, or his dark brown ones? Would they have Allura’s brown skin, or his pale colour? There were so many possibilities, so many endless choices and combinations to adore over. It had only been two weeks since the news had been confirmed but it was all Shiro could think about.

In some little, distracted part of his mind, he knew that being sick was something that was going to happen to Allura. It had already happened, actually. After waking up ill in the mornings and throughout the night for a month, Allura had finally been convinced to go to the doctor, where her pregnancy had been confirmed, much to their surprise. They hadn’t actively been trying to have a child, but had talked about it in depth, and decided to see what happened. Allura had stopped taking her birth control medication and Shiro had become more lax with protection. They both had stable incomes and a roof over their heads, and now that they’d been married for two years, they’d decided that they were ready to expand their family. 

So if it happened, it happened. And, according to the doctor, it had. It hadn’t been on Shiro’s mind for a while, not since he and Allura had last discussed it, but the pregnancy was very much welcome.

It seemed like Allura’s morning sickness only worsened as the weeks progressed. The doctor warned them that it would probably hang around for another month or so, and despite giving Allura some medication to ease her stomach pains, she still suffered with it enough to make Shiro’s stomach squeeze in sympathy every time she dashed for the bathroom.

On a particularly bad night, when Allura suddenly lurched out of bed in a mad flurry of tangled sheets to run for the bathroom, Shiro decided that he counted then as the first time their baby woke them up. He didn’t often sleep through her little sick spells, too keyed up to sleep deeply with his pregnant wife tucked in his arms. So anytime she jolted from the bed, desperate for the bathroom, he dragged himself up, too. 

“Sorry,” Allura would croak, in between trembling heaves that left her all shaky at the knees. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

But it was never something Shiro could blame her for, or be mad at her for. This was his wife, his beautiful, strong wife, who was nurturing their first child, something he could never help her with no matter how much he wished he could. How could he possibly be upset when she was suffering so much for the sake of their baby?

That night, when she flinched out of his arms the moment her stomach churned and was in the bathroom in seconds, he could only blink after her, confused and sleepy. One moment he’d been sleeping soundly, one of his arms resting across Allura’s waist. The next moment she was gone. He wasn’t a light sleeper and was used to waking up quickly, but doing so at two in the morning was a different story. It took him a moment to gather his wits, and when he did, he slipped out from beneath the covers and followed after her.

Allura was hunched over the toilet bowl, trying to keep her hair away from her face as she coughed and spluttered. He crouched beside her and pulled her hair away from her face, and smothered a yawn into his shoulder. After a week of this, he thought he was getting pretty good at tying up her hair for her, so that it didn’t fall into her face. He didn’t even miss any strands this time. She couldn’t sleep with it tied up without getting a headache, and it always made for messy morning sickness bouts.

“All good?” Shiro asked, after she’d done nothing but pant and breathe deeply for a few solid minutes. Her shoulders were shaking as he rubbed a carful hand down her back. Crouching on the cold, tiled floor was probably hurting her knees.

“I think so,” Allura rasped. “Sorry for waking you up again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reminded her, gentle, as he helped her stand. She flushed the toilet with a wince and a wrinkled nose before turning to the bathroom sink. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and there were spots of colour in her cheeks that didn’t look too good. She looked exhausted, and it had him worried. 

He stayed with her as she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Even if she encouraged him to go back to bed, he’d wait for her to be done. He couldn’t stop touching her – a gentle hand curled against the small of her back, a brush of shoulders as he watched her face in the bathroom mirror, his palm pressed against her still-flat stomach. She usually became quite embarrassed when he did that and would bat his hands away, but when she was sick the warmth from his palm seemed to soothe her a little.

It made him feel a lot better, anyhow. To think his baby was growing right beneath his palm, still too small to make a bump, but there nevertheless… he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. And as much as he disliked how bad morning sickness made Allura feel, he couldn’t hate it. He knew she didn’t either, because it was proof that their baby was _real,_ that they were going to be _parents._

Even the unglamorous parts of pregnancy were exciting, to some extent.

After Allura had finished brushing her teeth, she flicked off the bathroom light and let Shiro lead her back to bed. She fell into the sheets without any of her usual grace and all but groaned as her head hit the pillow.

“Still alright?” he asked.

She grunted, so he took that as a yes, and lifted the covers over her. She’d undoubtedly kick them off during the night but he didn’t want her to get cold. When he got back into bed himself, she rolled over to face him, and tucked her head under his chin. The scent of mint coming off of her made his nose itch for a moment, but it passed.

“You don’t have to get up with me every time, you know,” she whispered.

“I know,” he told her. He slipped a hand down to her hip and told himself that he’d touched her stomach enough that night. “But it’s the least I can do.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Let’s see if you feel that way three months down the line, huh?”

He couldn’t help but laugh too. He slipped his fingertips under her loose pyjama shirt and absentmindedly drew patterns along her warm skin. There was something really soft and magical about Allura when she was framed by the glowing moonlight falling in through the part in their curtains, all sleepy and tousled and quiet. He’d always thought she was beautiful, but sometimes the private little moments, like that one, when he got to see her vulnerable and open, made her seem even more beautiful than usual. If that were possible.

Maybe it was because only he was allowed to see her like that. 

“Think you’ll sleep alright?” he whispered.

She hummed, sounding halfway to sleep already. “Yeah, think I got it all out.”

He laughed again, just a little, and lapsed into a comfortable silence. In moments he could tell Allura was fast asleep again. Her breathing evened, her inhales becoming longer and smoother. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, she had these cute little snores that Shiro couldn’t sleep without anymore, and as soon as they started up, he let himself close his eyes, too.

If it wasn’t thoughts of his beautiful wife fluttering through his head, then it was their baby that his mind wandered to when he was on the cusp of falling back asleep. How many times would their baby wake them during the night? What would their cry sound like? Would the baby sleep in a crib in their room, or in the nursery?

It was strange to love someone he had never met so fiercely. It was strange to forgive them for waking him up every night in the future when they had yet to be born. But he did love them, and he did forgive them for disrupting his sleep so frequently. He wouldn’t have changed any of it for the world, not even for one single night.

“I love you,” he whispered against Allura’s forehead, as he pressed a gentle kiss between her slightly furrowed brows. In his head, he was whispering it to their baby as well, though he was still too embarrassed to talk to someone he couldn’t see or feel yet.

Waking up in the middle of the night seemed like a cheap price to pay when he was gaining a family in return.


	2. Two

2.

The second time it happened – when it wasn’t caused by morning sickness or an abrupt bout of nausea – was when Allura was several months along. She was somewhere in between twenty-three and twenty-four weeks into her pregnancy now, and had a very noticeable bump to her stomach. She often walked around with one hand cradled under it, though the extra weight wasn’t troubling her too much just yet.

Shiro sort of loved it. He cried when Allura first told him that her bump was visible. She’d discovered it one morning, almost like it had grown over night, and she’d been so excited that Shiro had thought something was wrong for a moment. His concern had only made her laugh, and she’d taken both of his hands in hers and placed them against her stomach.

It made everything feel more real. Allura was a fit person, but pregnancy had made her feel softer, most notably around her stomach and hips. There was a definite bump beneath his hands when she’d guided his hands there, a gentle curve that could fit snuggly into the palm of his hand, all warm and soft and tear-jerking. Knowing that what he felt was his child made something twist his heart in the best way possible, a feeling that only strengthened as the weeks passed.

Her bump had grown a lot since then.

Shiro had been more asleep than awake when Allura had woken him that evening. It had been a long week at work and he’d gone to bed earlier than usual, and Allura had joined him. Every now and then she was struck by fatigue spells, and that evening she’d been yawning with every second sentence. For a while she’d stayed curled up on the couch while Shiro washed the dishes from dinner, but when he retired to bed, she followed after him.

They mustn’t have been asleep for long before Allura was suddenly shaking him awake again.

“Shiro, wake up!” Allura demanded. She hovered over him, one arm wrapped around her stomach. He’d thought she was going to throw up for a moment, but the excited flush just visible in her cheeks had told him otherwise. “Pass me your hand.”

“Is something the matter?” He asked, concerned. The last time she’d bolted upright like that she’d been sick and had only barely made it to the bathroom in time. He didn’t feel like a repeat of that experience. “Do you feel okay?”

She only laughed a little, the corner of her lips twitching up as she insistently pressed his hands to her stomach, her touch light and gentle, firm enough for it to click in his head after a moment of confused sleepiness. “I was almost asleep when I suddenly realised when I was feeling. Wait for a second.”

It wasn’t just that her bump was becoming more and more noticeable with each passing day. It was as he paused to wait, he felt their baby _kick._

“Is that…?” He asked, eyes wide as they darted up to look at Allura.

A stunning grin stretched across her lips. “Yes!” She exclaimed. “You felt it too, right? I wasn’t sure if I was feeling the baby kick or not, but that was definitely a kick!”

Shiro had no idea how to tell a baby’s kick from indigestion, but there was no doubt in his mind about what he was feeling. He waited another moment and smiled when another faint kick pressed against his palm. It was the strangest thing he’d ever felt and he’d never been more in love. How must it felt for Allura, to have that feeling come from inside of her? He could barely comprehend it.

But once again, he didn’t care that he’d been woken. Their baby was kicking!

“I hope they settle soon,” Allura said. There was a little smile still on her face but she yawned, blinking sleepily. She laid down again, facing him this time, and pulled his arm across her waist. The round press of her stomach forced the gap between them to become wider, but that didn’t stop Allura from shuffling up against him as best as she could.

He rested a hand on her stomach, hoping to feel more. It was like all the tiredness in him before had fled, and now all he could think about was their baby. They had decided not to find out the gender of their baby until the baby was born, but Allura was completely certain that their baby was a boy, and he was inclined to believe her.

After a few quiet moments, Allura was asleep. Shiro watched her as he rubbed gentle circles along her stomach and hip. He felt one more kick from their baby before the baby seemed to fall asleep too. Hopefully they wouldn’t trouble Allura too much during the night.

He couldn’t believe how quickly the pregnancy seemed to be progressing. Thinking that his baby could already move around so much that they could feel it made a weird, protective feeling stir in Shiro’s stomach. In his mind, he could see himself holding their baby’s hand, comparing tiny fingers to his own. He could see himself running his fingertips down a tiny nose and across pouted lips. He could see himself tickling tiny feet.

It was probably that night that he first started to become truly excited about meeting their baby.


	3. Three

3.

The third time it happened, Allura’s pregnancy was at full term. Past it, actually. She was a full four days after her estimated due-date, and understandably crankier than ever. Her back always ached and she felt tired and restless all the time, so much so that she almost constantly fluttered between sitting down and pacing. Shiro could do little to help her, no matter how much he fussed and offered. 

Shiro had gone to bed that Saturday night only after Allura had grouchily insisted he did. He’d stayed up with her every night she felt too unsettled to sleep, but his attentiveness seemed more like a burden to her than any sort of comfort now. It was easier for him to carry on as usual so she didn’t worry too much. Allura was already stressed and exhausted and “two minutes from evicting this baby, Shiro”. He didn’t want to get in her way.

Her water finally broke sometime that night, when he’d been asleep. Luckily she’d been lounging in the bathtub, submerged up to the shoulders in warm water laden with sweet-smelling bath salts. She’d let out a startled cry that had him jolting upright straight away, half asleep and probably drooling into his pillow.

“Allura?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she’d called back. He could hear her splashing in the tub, and then her wet feet hitting the tiled floor. “I think my water broke.”

Now that was certainly enough to wake him up. “What? Are you alright?”

“Don’t freak out!” She snapped at him. “Don’t freak out or I’ll freak out. It’s fine. I’m fine. Baby’s fine. Can you grab me some clothes, please? The ones I left out this morning on the dresser.”

He rushed to comply. Since their baby was due four days ago, they’d been completely prepared for when this happened. They had a bag packed full of everything they’d need – clothes for Allura, clothes for the baby, napkins, tissues, blankets, baby supplies, and even Allura’s favourite snack bars. Allura had already picked out the clothes she wanted to wear to and from the hospital, and Shiro knew exactly what she wanted, so he got her the clothes and went to meet her in the bathroom.

She was hunched over the bath in her underwear and a loose shirt, pulling the plug to drain the water. Her hair was wet at the ends and staining the shirt, so he got her a hair tie from the bathroom drawer and gave it to her before he handed over her proper clothes. After she’d tied her hair and changed, she inched back into the bedroom and took a heavy seat on the edge of the bed, her hands pressed against her stomach.

“Are you okay?” He asked again.

She let out a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for snapping at you.”

“It’s alright,” he said. He knew she was going to go through something very painful, as she had been for the last few months, all for the sake of their child. If she accidentally snapped at him, he knew she didn’t mean it, and there was nothing to forgive. “What do you want to do now?”

“Well, first I should text my midwife. Can you pass me my phone, please? It’s on the bedside table.”

He did. Allura had decided she wanted to give birth at a women’s birthing centre instead of the hospital. It was a medical facility that catered to the needs of pregnant women a little more closely than a hospital might be able to, and Allura had really connected with the women they’d met there. One of the workers had become Allura’s midwife, and she knew everything about Allura’s pregnancy. 

“You should probably text your dad too,” Shiro reminded her.

Allura nodded in agreement. She spent a minute tapping away on her phone, and smiled when she received messages back from their loved ones. “I messaged your mother, too.”

He flushed, but was pleased that they were close enough that Allura felt comfortable texting her. He’d always been worried that his mother might be a little overbearing or too enthusiastic, but Allura loved her, and his mother loved Allura. It never boded well for him when they started sharing secret looks and whispering.

“Okay, that’s done,” Allura said, sighing. She winced as she rubbed her stomach, and sighed again. “Is the bag still in the car?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, perfect. Let’s go to the centre then.”

Shiro nodded. Although the doctor had said that contractions hopefully wouldn’t start until a few hours after Allura’s water broke, she still needed to be checked to ensure everything was going well. Shiro was painfully aware of all the things that could go wrong, but he trusted their doctors and the midwife, and most of all, he trusted Allura.

“Okay, I take it back, give me a second,” Allura said. They were halfway to the front door when she waddled into the kitchen instead, seeking a seat at the kitchen bench. 

He hurried after her. “Does it hurt much?”

“It’s a little uncomfortable,” she admitted. She sounded oddly out of breath. “Nothing I can’t handle yet.”

He frowned, but refrained from saying anything. Instead he put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed gentle circles, hoping to relieve some of the tension building in her muscles. She let out a relieved groan and leaned into his touch, asking for more. 

“I’m kind of scared,” she admitted, her voice quiet.

His eyebrows went up in surprise. “Scared of what?”

“Everything,” she said. “The pain, being a mother, being a _bad_ mother…”

“There’s no such thing,” he said confidentially. “Allura, a bad mother? Nonsense. I have full confidence in you.”

She glanced up at him, and reached up a hand to hold his wrist. “Really?”

“Of course,” he promised. “Allura, you’re the strongest person I know. There’s a thousand things for us to worry about, but you being a bad parent? That definitely isn’t one. I’m sure of it.”

“How can you trust me so much to raise your child?” She asked, unsure.

He smiled a little, and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Because it’s not my child, it’s _our_ child.” He placed his hand on her stomach, light and tentative. “And the fact that you’re willing to have a child with me is still a little mind blowing.”

She laughed, and turned her face into his chest. “You’re a dork. Why wouldn’t I have your child? You’re my husband.”

“Well, there are a lot of reasons-”

“Alright, alright, I get the idea,” she grinned. “It’s weird to think we’ll be meeting this little thing soon, huh?” She asked, as she rubbed her stomach.

He nodded in agreement. He felt like he’d waited an eternity to meet his child, and soon it would be happening. It was almost strange to think he wouldn’t feel kicks from Allura’s stomach or go to sleep with his ear pressed against her skin, feeling like he could hear his child’s very heartbeat within her. 

He’d have their baby in his arms, instead.

Or even better, in Allura’s arms, with Allura in _his._

Nothing sounded more perfect than that.


	4. Four

4.

Their baby was born early the next night. Allura’s contractions started the morning after her water broke, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, their baby was more than ready to arrive.

Shiro hadn’t known what to do with himself half the time. He comforted Allura when she wanted it, rubber her back when she asked, let her crush his hand when she was in pain. She managed to doze for a little while, before her contractions became too painful, and he slept for the same few hours she did, curled up against her side.

After the birth, their baby was whisked away to be cleaned and cared for by the staff at the facility. They’d paused to let Allura and Shiro see him, though – their little boy. He was covered in unpleasant things and all wrinkly and red-cheeked and he’d screamed like a whimpering banshee but Shiro had fallen in _love._

That was his little baby. His perfect little boy.

When their baby had been passed back to Allura, wrapped in a soft blue blanket with a tiny blue beanie tucked over his ears, Shiro thought he was crying. He took several photos of Allura cuddling their baby and grinning, flushed and beautiful and maternal. There was no way she’d ever been more beautiful, and he had to turn away to hide his tears and gather himself. 

With the baby asleep, Shiro carefully took him from Allura to hold for himself the first time. The baby felt almost weightless in his arms, like he could drift away at any moment. Shiro couldn’t stop staring. Their baby had Allura’s dark skin, if perhaps a shade or two lighter, and her cute cupid’s bow in his pouty top lip. The slope of his nose was gentle, and his cheeks were round. The soft locks of hair on his head were as dark as Shiro’s. 

Allura took at least a dozen photos of him staring at their baby like a love struck, teary-eyed fool.

After Shiro had laid the baby in the crib provided by the centre, he slumped into the armchair by the bed, feeling excited and exhausted all at once. There would be an hour or so before the baby woke up, and they’d asked for about that amount of time (including all the time they’d already had) to themselves and the baby, so he and Allura could afford a quick power nap. Allura especially needed sleep; she was thoroughly exhausted and wincing with pain every now and then as the pain medication began to wear off.

What woke him from his sleep that time was the baby’s little whimpers. He was up in seconds, alert with wakefulness. He could tell Allura was struggling to wake up too, so he leaned across the hospital bed to press a reassuring kiss against her forehead before heading to the crib.

The baby was squirming, fingers balled up into tiny fists. There was a scrunched look on his face as he made whimpers that promised wails. 

Shiro gently lifted him, and rested the baby against his chest as he sat back down on the armchair. His hand completely encompassed the baby’s back as Shiro pressed the lightest kiss he could manage against his son’s forehead. He was so soft, so small and fragile. Shiro felt like any sudden movement would disturb him, so he took care to breath easily. 

“He’s so cute,” Allura said, smiling. She rolled on her side and shifted until she was comfortable, one arm tucked under her head. Her eyes flittered between Shiro’s face and the baby, but ultimately rested on the baby.

Shiro hummed in agreement. The baby had his head turned towards Allura, like he knew exactly where his mother was, and was comforted by her affectionate gaze. He was asleep again in moments, like nothing in the world could ever bother him.

“How are you feeling?” Shiro asked.

“Tired, but better,” Allura said. She still looked completely wiped out – dark circles under her eyes, her hair a loose, tangled man, cheeks pale except for the slightest flush she gained when she laid her gaze on their baby. “How is he?”

“Perfect,” Shiro said. The doctors would come in again eventually to check on the baby and Allura, but for now they had a quiet moment to themselves. 

Shiro was grateful that Allura had decided this facility was the best place to give birth. He’d worried that the hospital might need the room soon after the baby was born, but this facility catered to the needs of the women just as much as the needs of the baby. Allura could keep the room for days after the birth of the baby if she wanted to stay for a little while longer, something which her midwife repeated numerous times. They wanted Allura to be confident in her health and in her baby’s health before she left. He really appreciated how attentive they were at the facility.

“You woke up pretty quickly just then,” Allura said.

“I didn’t just spend twenty-four hours giving birth.”

She laughed quietly. The sound made their baby’s eyes flutter, just for a moment. “That’s true,” she finally said. “You look good with him. I’m going to have to fight off jealous mothers.”

Shiro snorted. “As if they could ever hold a candle to you.”

A smile twitched at her lips. “I probably look awful right about now,” she said.

“You’re beautiful.”

She smiled again. “What did I do to deserve you? Even when I look bad you’re still such a gentleman.”

“I’m only telling the truth,” he promised, grinning. “My wife is beautiful and my son is beautiful and there is no one in this world happier than I am right now.”

She laughed. “So, names,” she said. “What we talked about before-”

“I still like what we chose before,” Shiro said. 

He looked down at his little son and smiled, convinced. They’d spent ages labouring over names, making lists and then rewriting them, trying to find something perfect for their child. In the end they’d had an option for both genders – they’d decided to keep the gender of their baby hidden until the birth – and Shiro still liked the boy option. Allura had teared up a little when he’d suggested it, hesitant to consider it, thinking perhaps it was unfair to Shiro. But he didn’t think that, and in the end, she’d been honoured he wanted to name their child what he had.

“Alright.” Allura smiled fondly. “Our Alfor, then.”

Shiro grinned, and nuzzled against his son’s head. “My little Alfie.”


	5. Five

5.

Baby Alfie was an angel. Shiro was completely, utterly convinced. He’d heard horror stories of newborn babies that slept restlessly or not at all, instead spending the night wailing and screaming for attention or food or comfort. He’d expected the first few days to be messy and chaotic or unorganised, and while they were, there was this underlying current of calmness that permeated every aspect of his life.

Allura and Alfor came home a day and a half after Alfor’s birth, with a clean bill of health from the doctor and a very happy midwife waving them off. Shiro had driven with Allura sitting in the backseat, one hand protectively holding onto the baby’s car seat. They’d been over prepared for Alfor’s arrival, but Shiro was thankful they’d spent so much time preparing the house and car in advance. By the time they arrived home, everything was already in place, or easily within reach.

For the most part, Alfor adjusted well to his new environment. He was comfortable in his crib – temporarily placed in their room, not the nursery they’d prepared – and he was eating well. The only thing he seemed to hate more than being put down was having his clothes changed.

Still, as gentle as Alfie’s disposition seemed to be, he was a newborn, and crying was a part of the package. He woke up every two hours to feed and generally made noise until one of his parents came to his aid. His routine tired both Allura and Shiro within hours, but they took turns taking over two feedings so that the other could catch a few hours of continuous sleep. Shiro insisted on taking Allura’s first few night shifts, just so she could properly recuperate. 

After a day or so, despite the tiredness, they did settle into the routine. Alfie seemed to grow stronger and brighter with every passing hour and he dozed most happily when slumped against Allura’s chest or cradled in Shiro’s arms. 

When Shiro woke up that night, it was to Alfie’s quiet snuffles. He’d become incredibly in tune with them, perhaps even more so than his wailing cries. The snuffles were the noises Alfie made just before he started crying. He made these little noises in his throat, like hiccups or tiny whines, so small they were only just audible over a baby monitor. Allura was always surprised when Shiro jerked out of bed just before Alfie started crying, but Shiro couldn’t help it. Those little whimpers just tore at his heart, perhaps even more than the full blown crying did.

Somehow, even though he was exhausted, he was still up and out of bed before Alfie could start crying for real. 

Allura blinked at him sleepily, her head lifted. “You good?”

“Yeah, go back to sleep,” he said, as he reached into Alfie’s crib to scoop up the squirming baby. “How’s my sweet little boy, hmm? Hungry?”

Alfie whined, his mouth opening wide in a sleepy yawn. He looked at Shiro with those big eyes of his, still glazed over with that glossy newborn sheen.

“Oh, still sleepy?” Shiro cooed. “I’m sure the prospect of a meal will wake you right up, don’t worry.”

Sure enough, as Shiro carried Alfie into the kitchen to fix a bottle, he slowly started to cheer up. It was always quite magical to watch Alfie become more aware of what was around him, because it always seemed like he was seeing everything for the first time. His eyes generally didn’t linger on much, but instead blinked slowly at everything, like the sight of the flowers on the kitchen bench or the painting on the wall greatly puzzled him. 

Alfie did have a tendency to stare at Shiro, though. Shiro wasn’t sure if maybe he just wanted to captivate his son, or if he was reading too much into every little flicker of motion from the baby, but he was secretly sure that when Alfie looked at him, he really did recognise his father. It made him happy to think about.

Once the bottle was fixed and the milk inside had cooled down enough, he set to feeding Alfie. 

“See? I told you that you were hungry,” Shiro said, chuckling to himself. “Don’t drink too fast now, or you’ll give yourself a stomach ache. Gently now.”

Alfie was too fixated on his meal to really heed Shiro’s concerns (nor was he anywhere near old enough to understand them) so it was up to Shiro to make sure he didn’t drink too fast. Besides, even though he had to crawl out of bed at truly ungodly hours, he liked the private little moments he got with Alfie like this. Allura understood the feeling perfectly – they were using a mixture of formula and breastmilk, so when she breastfed, she experienced the same little private, bonding moment that Shiro did, just on a more personal level.

Still, he enjoyed it. If he were being honest, he’d enjoyed every moment of Alfie’s life so far, even if that meant getting up early and changing nappies and cleaning up anything messy. And babies really were quite messy. But this was his son, so how could he complain? He wouldn’t have changed anything for the world. He thought he was quite lucky, in fact, because Alfie wasn’t much of a crier unless it was time to eat.

“One day you’re going to feel bad about waking us up so often, but it’s okay,” Shiro said, “that’s what babies do. And you’re cute. Aren’t you, Alfie?”

The baby made no response, but his eyes did glance up at Shiro once, where they remained for a long time before finally starting to droop shut.

“Sleepy again?” Shiro laughed around a yawn of his own. “Just a little more to drink, and then we can go back to bed, okay?”

Thankfully Alfie was content to finish off his bottle completely that night. Once he was done, Shiro uncapped the bottle and rinsed it out before setting it away in the dishwasher. He’d need to turn it on in the morning, but it was too noisy for the middle of the night. He spent a few minutes patting Alfie’s back until he let out a little puff of air, and after checking to make sure his pyjamas and face were still perfectly clean, he headed back to bed.

Alfie was mostly asleep when Shiro slipped him back into his crib. He kissed Alfie’s forehead once, and waited until he was asleep before returning to bed himself.

There was nothing he loved more than his family.


	6. Six

6.

“Daddy, wake up!”

“Alfie,” Shiro groaned, as he turned his face into his pillow. “Not now baby, go back to bed, it’s still early…”

“Daddy,” Alfie whined, his little fists tugging on the bed sheets, pulling them away from Shiro. “Daddy, I wanna play. Wake up!”

It was ridiculous how fast Alfie had learned that Shiro’s biggest weak spot was the toddler himself. There was no doubt in Shiro’s mind that his weakness had started the very moment Alfie was born, perhaps even before that, but it was certainly cemented when the very first word out of Alfie’s mouth was “Dada”. Since then, it had been nothing but a downhill slope. One pouty look or whine of “Daddy, please!” from the sweet thing had Shiro dropping everything in favour of his child. 

“Alright, Alfie, I’m up, I’m up,” Shiro said, as he sat upright. It couldn’t have been more than five in the morning, and it was a Sunday, but there was no stopping Alfie and his rambunctious energy. “But let’s let Mama sleep in, okay?”

Alfie grinned up him, showing off his little dimples and his toothy smile. All of his teeth had finished coming in the previous month, according to their dentist. Was it strange to be proud that his baby had all his teeth now? Because Shiro was very proud.

“How about some breakfast?” Shiro asked, as he quietly shut the bedroom door behind him. He’d glanced at Allura once, just to make sure she was sleeping – like usual, she wasn’t; she’d been peering at him with a sleepy smile and half-open eyes, but her eyelids had fluttered shut when she realised Shiro was going to let her sleep in again, like he did most Sundays.

Alfie tugged at Shiro’s pants, holding his hands up, fingers spread. “Up!”

Shiro laughed quietly, and obligingly scooped Alfie up into his arms, happy when Alfie let out a cheerful giggle. Hearing that cute little noise was worth being woken up before the sun came out. “What’s for breakfast then, my little lion? Toast? Cereal? Or…” Shiro paused, just for the drama of it all, and then let out a great big gasp as he jostled Alfie. “I know! Pancakes!”

Alfie gasped too, caught up in Shiro’s enthusiasm. “Pancake! Pancake!”

Shiro grinned. As it turned out, Alfie had developed the same sweet tooth his mother had. He loved the little treats he received, like chocolate milk for dessert or a biscuit at snack time, and even the little jelly beans the doctor gave him for being good at his appointments. Pancakes were another favourite – he loved to have a little maple syrup on them, though Shiro always made sure to serve them with strawberry and banana slices as well, just to combat the sugar a little.

He set Alfie in his highchair in the kitchen and set to making breakfast. With his child already awake, there wasn’t nearly enough time to make pancakes from scratch, so he settled with the type that came in a container where all he needed to do was add water and shake. They didn’t taste as nice as home-made but they were actually quite decent, and Shiro liked them. Alfie could hardly tell the difference, and he really loved to shake the container, which was perfect for keeping him occupied.

Alfie had grown up so quickly in the last few years. He was almost three now, and was as perfect as ever, even with the occasional tantrum. His hair was thick like Allura’s but still as dark as Shiro’s, and as he grew older his eyes and nose started to look more like Shiro’s. Even if they were shaped like Shiro’s, his eyes were doe-like and as blue as the sky, just like Allura’s. They were the eyes that were impossible ignore, let alone say “no” to.

It had been a few frantic years, to say the least. But Shiro wouldn’t have changed anything about it. He still fondly remembered Alfie’s first word, and when he first cut a tooth, and the day when he took his first few steps. He had so many precious memories that he feared he might run out of room in his head to keep them (thank goodness for cameras).

“Alright, let’s get eating,” Shiro said, as he finished enough pancakes to keep Alfie occupied for a while. He always made odd shapes with them – it was a little game he played with his son. “What does this one look like, Alfie?”

Alfie hummed, his tongue sticking out just a little as he spooned a big dollop of maple syrup out of the little jar Shiro had poured it into just to make sure his son didn’t use too much. “Looks like Mama!” He declared, as he stuck a handful of strawberries in one corner of the misshapen pancake. “See? There are flowers in Mama’s hair.”

Shiro laughed. “Want me to take a photo for Mama?”

“Yes please!”

Shiro did, and while Alfie made a mess of his pancake, he stuffed down a few himself. Eating in the mornings was generally a quick affair when one had an energetic toddler. By the time Alfie was ready for a second pancake, Shiro was full, and finally awake.

“What’s this one look like?” Shiro asked. 

“A puppy!” Alfie exclaimed. This one he carefully covered in banana slices, looking more serious than ever. “It’s riding a cloud, Daddy.”

“It looks yummy, baby,” he said, amused, as he put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Alfie made a mess out of his second pancake too, and when he was done, Shiro wiped off his hands and chubby cheeks with a damp washcloth. He’d long since gotten used to the messes that came with having a child. 

Once breakfast was finished and the kitchen was partially clean, he took Alfie out of his high chair, and let the toddler lead him into the lounge room by the hand. He had to stoop a little, but Alfie was determined. He could only fit two of Shiro’s fingers into his hands and it was the cutest thing Shiro had ever seen.

Alfie sat in Shiro’s lap, holding his favourite books in his hands. “Can you read to me, Daddy?”

“It’s not bedtime though,” Shiro said. But he knew this situation well, however, and would proudly admit that his son loved reading more than anything. Story time was his absolute favourite activity, even if it meant he usually had to go to sleep. 

“Please?” Alfie whined, eyes big and blue and hopeful.

Shiro smiled, utterly helpless against the sweet look. “Alright, alright. Which one do you want me to read?”

“This one!” Alfie said, as he held up the book on top of his pile. 

Shiro laughed. It didn’t matter which book he read, Alfie just wanted story time. Shiro was more than happy to oblige. He was relieved that Alfie was interested in a quiet activity that morning, just so Allura could get a little more sleep. 

So, with his precious son safely in his arms and a book open between them, he began to read. Nothing could have been any more perfect than it already was.


End file.
